❝crushed and broken. just the way women like 'em.❞

-gansey, the raven boys

♛

WE DECIDE TO SPLIT up into two groups. Since Raven remembered that ALIE had downloaded herself into the Ark mainframe and suggested she could find a back door, that left the science people to stay with her. Miller, Harper, and Bryan offered to stay to watch their backs as they worked. It leaves a much smaller group of us to retrieve Luna.

I'd felt a small smile tugging my lips when, after I'd hugged Caleb, Bellamy had been the one to pull him in for an embrace right afterward. It had left the taller boy looking shocked. However, it melted into a smile as Bellamy ruffled his hair and pulled back.

The only one not to hug me was Monty, though it was expected. He was still badly shaken about the ordeal with his mother and so he turned away before any of us could get close to him. I hoped that spending time away from the action would give him time to heal.

Bellamy drives the Rover this time, the long ride to the ocean proving to be enough to lull me to sleep. I slumber easily in the back of the vehicle. Due to the exhaustion from the past day, I suppose I could have slept anywhere. The gentle jostling of the automobile as we drive through dirt paths is somehow comforting instead of annoying.

Clarke sits in the passenger seat beside Bellamy. She's been turning the Flame over in her hands for hours as if she can't bear to part with it for more than a second. Jasper is beside me, Octavia across from us and her eyes trained on the barred window in the back doors.

A harsh bump causes my eyes to immediately snap open. It takes me a few minutes to become fully comprehensive, my limbs sluggish and aching from sitting for so long. Jasper's head has flopped onto his shoulder as he sleeps. Soft snores come out of his mouth every few seconds.

We've been following Lincoln's map that he'd drawn in his journal, but it feels like we're moving aimlessly through lifeless forests. We've passed several ruinous landmarks. They've been chipped away and destroyed by the war; I wonder what they used to look like before they were half-destroyed.

Two nearly silent hours later, Jasper is awake and holds the journal open in his hands. I feel my heart clench as I peer over his shoulder to see the small sketches and notes written in Lincoln's handwriting. The drawings he'd done of the landscape are elaborate, adding tiny details and shading done in charcoal.

"It's been an hour since we passed the airplane wreckage," he informs the rest of us, tracing his finger along the rough pages. "Seeing as we're using a map without any distances, it could be days before we reach Luna's village."

"At least we know we're going in the right direction," Bellamy says optimistically.

"We're running out of daylight," Jasper points out, which is true. The overcast sky above is already starting to darken once more as twilight approaches. "We should stop in the sun and recharge the battery."

"What sun?" Clarke asks with her eyes out the window. It's still raining, droplets of water creating a soft pounding on the roof. My clothes, still half-damp, stick to me uncomfortably. "We keep going until it dies."

"We keep going until we get to Luna," Octavia counters.

Jasper finds a sketch of a fierce-looking woman with coarse, scraggly hair that half-obscures her face. He turns the journal around so it's facing the younger Blake sibling. "This her?"

"Yes," she confirms after a pause of consideration.

"What do you think she's gonna say when we show up asking to put an AI in her head?" Jasper wonders aloud. His fingers trace lightly over the branch of a plant that's been shoved into the binding on the page across from the sketch.

"Well, we have a lot of time to practice our introductory speeches," I sigh, stretching my long legs as much as I can with the tiny space I'm allowed. "'Hey Luna, you don't know us, but you have Nightblood, so take this brain-altering chip and be the new Commander.'"

"That'll work," he agrees sarcastically.

"Lincoln said she helps those that are in trouble," Octavia tells us, noticing the suddenly tense mood that's taken over the vehicle. None of us had realized that we don't have a plan of how to recruit her. "She'll help us, too."

A few moments later, the Rover comes to a complete stop. My eyebrows pinch in confusion. Placing my hand on the back of Bellamy's chair to balance myself, I stand on half-asleep legs and investigate our reason for stopping. A tree trunk has been placed directly in our path.

I remember what happened the last time we encountered this dilemma. Judging by the way Bellamy's troubled eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, he's thinking of the same thing.

"You think she can help us find a better map?" Jasper wonders with a sigh. Octavia sneers at him as she shoves the journal into her bag.

"We backtrack," Bellamy decides. "Find somewhere where the trees aren't so bad."

Just after he finishes, Octavia gets up and all but kicks the back door open. She hurtles into the drizzling rain. I shield my face as the droplets come spilling into the vehicle.

"Hey!" Bellamy calls after her to no avail. He sighs and opens his door to follow after his sister.

"Guess we're going on foot," Clarke drawls as she, too, starts to climb out.

Jasper and I both hop down onto the ground, our boots half-sinking into the mud. I don't have time to shake out my limbs before Octavia starts running toward the fallen log.

"Anyone hear the part where I said it could be days?" Jasper exclaims exasperatedly. I silently agree with him. The Rover would offer more protection in the event of an attack and would get us to our destination much faster. Plus, we risk illness if we spend days in the cold rain. But nobody else seems to think of this.

"Stop," Octavia commands as she comes to an abrupt halt. Clarke, who had been running along with her, obeys the girl's command. I merely trudge alongside Jasper and try not to get stuck in the unforgiving ground. "You hear that?"

I pause briefly to listen. The sound of rushing water meets my ears, making my jaw slightly drop in surprise. What kind of luck—

"Water," Clarke realizes in a tone of wonder.

The two of them continue up the slope leading toward the sound. I don't understand why they're running, since we're all going to the same destination. Plus, I'm still trying to get my body fully coordinated from the day-long trip spent cooped up in the River. I don't want to run.

"Eyes sharp," Bellamy reminds them, cradling his rifle. "They could be hostile."

Octavia turns around and gives him an incredulous look. "They're not hostile. Put the guns down."

Jasper darts up the slope to join them, though I notice he still has his hand on the weapon at his hip. Bellamy begrudgingly obliges and loosens his grip on his rifle. He, too, then begins to chase after them.

"Oh, great," I grumble under my breath. I have to force my feet to move in a manner that won't cause me to face-plant into the wet earth beneath me. My thighs ache as I thunder up the steep, upward trail.

I find my group running alongside a coursing river. The water, instead of blue, is a murky grey from the sediment collected inside of it. Jagged rocks poke out from the shallow bottom. The strong current sends waves crashing into them, creating a loud rushing sound as we follow the length of it.

Octavia leads us to a sharp decline in the soil. I have to place my weight on the back of my feet so I don't tumble down it, but the loose material isn't doing any good for balance. I start to slip; Bellamy grabs my arm with lightning speed and holds me in place.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

My head turns toward the ocean, now in plain sight. The vast expanse takes my breath away; my eyes widen in wonder and awe. The mountains stretch far along the left side of the water, gradually fading in the fog. Low clouds create an almost eerie atmosphere as they hang over the ocean ominously. The waves lap restlessly at the shore. Combined with the dampness of the air, the smell of salt is heightened.

"Where's the village?" Jasper asks, turning his head left and right in search of Luna's supposed home.

He's correct— there's no sign of life, much less a village that should be large enough to see from here. My eyes sweep around once more just in case I missed something the first time. The only peculiar thing is the batch of rocks placed near a cliff that sticks out from the beach, marking what looks like graves. A knot of dread grows in my stomach.

Octavia doesn't seem to have an answer. She rummages through her bag for Lincoln's journal, flipping through the pages to find his map. She places a finger where the rock formations are drawn.

"No," she whispers disbelievingly. "No, it can't be."

Octavia turns toward the trail that runs along the trees. She darts down it, giving the rest of us no choice but to follow closely after her. The closer we get to the rock formations, the more I realize that they seem to be intended to be shaped like crosses. A small, round stone sits on top of a flat one in every pile. They're arranged in a large, loose circle.

"It isn't a village," Jasper says in a disappointed tone that matches the rest of our moods. "It's just a bunch of rocks."

I can't fight the feeling of confusion that's swirling in me. Lincoln had known Luna. He'd drawn the graves on the map. Surely that had to count for something.

"She's gone," Clarke whispers, her eyebrows creased and mouth turned down in a frown. Her eyes continuously sweep across the rocks as if she can make our reality untrue; it's like she's trying to change the picture that's right in front of us.

Jasper looks to Clarke. "What do we do now?"

The blonde turns and looks helplessly at the boy. Then, her eyes drift to mine, only to find no answer in them. She moves onto an unusually quiet Bellamy. When he doesn't offer a solution, she turns to find Octavia, only for us to watch her walk to the end of the shoreline. She crouches on the edge with her head bent in defeat. Then, he girl tilts her head back and directs a gut-wrenching scream at the sky.

I direct my eyes at the clouds above and whisper, "What did you mean by this?"

Lincoln had to know what he was doing. I trust him on that more than anything; it's too late to give up hope.

—

With the cold rain chilling us to the bone and no blankets in the Rover, we have to resort to building a fire to keep warm. Jasper kneels beside me as I grate two perpendicular sticks together over a small amount of dry brush. The water has made most of the nearby resources damp, so coaxing a flame is going to be difficult.

"It'll be dark soon," Clarke notes from behind me. "We need to talk about what we're gonna do."

"We wait until first light," Octavia replies decidedly, watching the sticks in my hands, "and then we split up and search the shore in both directions."

Bellamy arrives from where he'd been scouting for dry logs to build our fire with. He and Clarke had arranged them to create a pyramid shape in the sand, right in the middle of the rock formations.

A spark ignites in the brush. Jasper comments, "Nice," as Octavia bends down to blow on it and get the small spark to attach to the brush. She lifts it in her hands, continuously blowing lightly on it as she carries it toward the wood. It quickly catches fire once it's placed in the open spot. Flames lick the wood, sending a blaze of heat toward my body.

"I agree," Bellamy says belatedly. He's been uncharacteristically nonverbal ever since we arrived, and it worries me that something is troubling him. "Lincoln wouldn't put this spot on a map unless it was important."

He reaches down to pick up a small chunk of wood, but Octavia abruptly reaches up and hits it out of his hand. "Don't touch that!"

I squint my eyes as she places the piece in the fire herself. What was the point?

I realize belatedly that the other two, Clarke and Jasper, weren't present for Octavia's show. The faint scars and dried patches of blood on Bellamy's face haven't had the time to properly heal. They don't know.

Bellamy crouches down and balances on the balls of his feet beside his sister, who busily throws more scraps into the flames. His voice is soft in a manner only a brother could speak in. "Come on, O. How long?"

"I don't know," she replies thickly. "I can't even look at you. Because every time I do, I see Pike putting that gun to Lincoln's head. I hear the gunshot. I see him fall."

Bellamy is silent for a moment before asserting, "I didn't kill Lincoln."

A surge of pride rises within me. Bellamy blames himself for things that are out of his control, and his friend's death must be one of them. It must have taken an effort to say the words out loud— especially since his sister is in a mood where she's refusing to see things any other way.

"No, but he is dead because of you." Octavia rises to her feet, voice already cracking and full of hatred so immense I find myself sucking in a breath.

"I came to you," he reminds her, not raising his voice, still in that calm manner as before. He's dealt with her temper before. "Like Fallon said, you didn't take my help. If you had just trusted me, I—"

Bellamy cuts himself off as Octavia shakes her head and bends back down to add more to the fire. I don't think it's necessary at this point — the flames are fine — but assume it's in my best interest not to point that out. She's just trying to keep herself busy.

He begins to walk away, heading toward the jagged coastline away from our spot above sea-level. I place my arm on his as he walks by. My eyes search his pained ones, silently asking him a question to which he answers without a word. I understand that he needs space right now and let him walk to clear his head.

Jasper blows air out, puffing his cheeks, and throws a plant into the flames. The fire changes from orange to a bright green. The four of us jump back in surprise.

"What just happened?" I ask, studying the fire as it turns back to its natural color.

"Nothing," Jasper replies in a perplexed tone, turning the seemingly nondescript plant over in his hands. "I threw these in the fire."

Octavia's face fills back with hope. Noticing this, Clarke asks, "What is it?"

Octavia grabs the journal and hurriedly unwinds the twine holding it closed. She locates the page with the sketch of Luna, removing a branch of the same plant Jasper is holding. She tosses it under the burning wood. As soon as it comes in contact with the flame, the color changes to the neon green tint again.

"Signal fire," she realizes happily. "He was trying to tell us. This is how we contact Luna."

Impossibly, Clarke gives a relieved laugh, her lips turning upward into a smile. I'm surprised to find myself breathing a sigh of reassurance. I was right— Lincoln had sent us here for a reason.

"I'll get more," Jasper announces, scrambling to his feet. He bounds off in search of a larger quantity of the plant.

A still-grinning Clarke turns toward Bellamy as if she's about to tell him the news, only to discover that he's still walking along the tide. Her face falls and appears troubled. With a frown replacing her smile, she turns to me, a question in her eyes.

"Give him time," I reply quietly. "He needs to think. But if he's there for long, you can bring the good news."

Clarke purses her lips and directs a saddened gaze toward the wet sand below our feet. There may have been a time when Octavia would call to Bellamy, when Clarke would hound excitedly up to him and Jasper would be hollering at the top of his lungs. But we are not those people anymore. Relationships have changed, though I'm not positive they're for the better.

—-

SEASON 5 TONIGHT GUYS!!!!!!

when bellamy walked away, all i could think of was troy bolton's song "bet on it" from high school musical lmao

(did anyone else notice that when bellamy was giving some great comebacks, octavia didn't want to admit she was wrong and just resumed her mini tantrum of throwing sticks? ☕️☕️☕️☕️🐸🐸)

-kristyn